


IOU

by unviincible (broodingmischief)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, Drinking, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodingmischief/pseuds/unviincible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Seein' the little guy up on his feet reminded me of somethin'." Whirl's optic contracted at the corners as if to grin. "Remember when you said you'd do something for me? Anything?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	IOU

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember if this is canon or not but my brain seems to remember Chromedome telling Whirl he'd do anything for him after he saved Rewind. If not, let's assume it happened anyway for the sake of this fic.

Chromedome had taken one step into Swerve's bar when he felt it; a tide of anxiety rose in his belly, putting him on edge, his entire body tensing and freezing in the entrance. Rewind halted beside him and glanced up.

"You have that 'I have a horrible feeling about tonight' look," he said. "I can pick up our rations. You wanna head back?"

"It's fine," Chromedome said--lied, more like. He pointed towards the row of booths lined against the side wall of the bar and, before Rewind could double-check, he added, "Trailbreaker and Skids are unusually quiet over there. I say we check it out."

The two slid into the seat across from them. Trailbreaker glanced up from around an ocean of empty glasses and grinned wide as Skids contemplated a holographic game board.

"Rewind, buddy!" Trailbreaker said. "Outta the medical bay! How're ya feelin'?"

"Not too bad," Rewind said. "A little tired, but no worse for wear. I could use a drink."

"Me too," Trailbreaker said. "I could use my--" He stared down at the glasses and began to count. He quickly gave up. "I could always use another."

As if on cue, Swerve appeared with a small pad in hand. He scribbled down orders, paused when he reached Trailbreaker's, then shook his helm and took off. Chromedome watched Skids flatten one of Trailbreaker's pieces under an equine figure, then recline as Trailbreaker pouted and reviewed his choices.

"Chess?" Rewind asked.

"Yeah, it's a human game," Skids explained. "I saw it in Rung's office when I helped him clean up from the sparkeater attack. He let me borrow it in exchange for the help." He rubbed his chin guard. "I wonder what else he's got in the cupboards in there."

"Wouldn't you be impossible to beat?" Chromedome asked. "You know, what with your ability to super-learn and all?"

"I can be bad at stuff," Skids said, but Trailbreaker let out a moan of pure agony.

"I've lost _six times,_ " he wailed. "Each time a little faster than the last. I give up." He knocked over his king with a despondent flick of his barrier.

Swerve reappeared with a tray of drinks balanced on his arm. He served them one by one on the table and clasped Chromedome's wrist before he could claim his glass. His knobby little fingers barely reached halfway around the joint and he tugged Chromedome closer, his mouth by his audial.

"Hey, I dunno if you noticed, but Whirl's been staring at you ever since you walked in. Also, don't tell him I said that. Also, don't look. Then he'll know I said that."

Chromedome's initial bad feeling reared its ugly head, threatening to drag him undertow. "Er, okay."

"Could always be nothing, and I'd pray to Primus it's nothing, but.." He shrugged and scurried off. Chromedome peered into the bar, and, surely enough, Whirl sat at a stool at the counter, his lone optic fixed on Chromedome from over his stabilizer like a single headlight. Upon making eye-contact, Whirl jut out his head, then turned to hunch over his mostly-empty glass.

Rewind bumped his side, momentarily chasing away the apprehension worming its way into his seams. "Hey, you know how to play?"

"I know the basics, yeah."

They nabbed the board from Trailbreaker and Skids and rotated it between themselves. Rewind tapped a button at the corner of the board and the pieces realigned themselves. He clicked it again and the sides swapped colours.

"Do you wanna be blue or white?" he asked, playfully switching between colours.

"White," Chromedome decided, taking a sip of his drink.

Rewind input his choice. Chromedome nudged a pawn forward two spaces. As Rewind wiggled his fingers above the board, Chromedome missed his oral slot with a straw as Whirl crashed into the booth, squashing the three of them together. Chromedome's prior caution transformed into full-blown alarms howling in his head and he grimaced as alcohol splashed over his chassis.

"Hey, Whirl," Rewind said, lifting a knight out in front of his pawns.

"Hey," Whirl said. "Mind if I steal your husband for a sec?"

Chromedome frowned. Rewind glanced at him, the corner of his visor raised as if to say, 'You're frowning, aren't you?' When Chromedome said nothing, he nodded at Whirl. "Sure, so long as you bring him back. I don't have insurance."

Whirl's optic formed a content crescent. "Mind coming with me, needles?"

"You have to get out of the booth first," he said. Whirl clambered out and Chromedome reluctantly stood, his drink barely touched. He turned to the table as Whirl trotted off, its three occupants staring openly at him.

"You don't _have_ to go," Rewind reminded him. "I was joking, you know."

"Yeah, but he'll pester me until I do," Chromedome said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You can play with Skids."

"Aw, but I'll lose."

"You can try to hold him off until I come back."

Chromedome joined Whirl at the bar. Whirl looked crafty, which had never bode well in the past, propped up against the bar with an arm and his claw twitching back and forth like the hand of a metronome. Chromedome supposed this was preferable to furious and belligerent but he still approached with caution.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Sheesh, so uptight." Whirl straightened and stretched his shoulders back to a broad, impressive length. "Seein' the little guy up on his feet reminded me of somethin'."

Chromedome glanced back at his vacant spot at the booth. Rewind had stood up and bent over the table, furiously focused on his match against Skids. He felt a flutter of deep-rooted affection and recalled the hysteria from when he'd been injured and how his spark had sung with relief when he'd been revived.

He glanced back at Whirl. The realization of the words he'd said in his hysteria sunk in deep. "Oh."

Whirl's optic contracted at the corners as if to grin. "Remember when you said you'd do something for me? Anything? Well, I had an idea when you walked in, but you gotta promise me you'll do them before I tell you."

"That's not fair," Chromedome complained.

"They're not serious," Whirl said, waving a claw. "And they're all gunna take place right here. I'm not asking you to go for a swim in the oil reserve, it's just a buncha small tasks. Nothing crazy, I swear."

"By whose standards, yours, or mine?"

"Both. C'mon, this shouldn't even be up for debate. You owe me for savin' your hubby."

Chromedome considered, and his gaze, unbidden, returned to Rewind. He'd promised Whirl in a state of heightened anxiety. He'd almost forgotten having offered at all, but he did owe Whirl a favour no matter how he felt about the helicopter in question. Granted, he'd thought Whirl had done so out of a sliver of compassion in his spark. Maybe that wasn't so true after all.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. Whirl snickered and rubbed the tips of his pincers together in unabashed glee.

"Okay, first things first: you gotta release your mask. Does it open?"

"Yes," Chromedome said.

"Then let's see your face."

"Just the mask?"

"Yeah, sure, keep the visor, whatever."

Chromedome sighed. Swerve stepped up near them, twirling a cloth inside a glass, watching his bar but listening to the conversation. Chromedome rarely took off his mask, even in private. He begrudgingly released the seals, then slid off the mask and rested it on the counter. Whirl stared at his nose and mouth and when Swerve looked he did a double-take.

"Haha, holy shit." Whirl swooped in close and Chromedome gripped his face plate tight, standing rigid and staring at the ceiling. "You have a mouth."

Chromedome became hyper-aware of the air on his lips and that anyone who looked could see them part and form the word, "Yep."

"Does that mean your boyfriend has one, too?"

"Not necessarily," Chromedome said, stepping back when Whirl reached forward as if he might touch his mouth to test its authenticity. "You can ask him. He's less recluse about it."

"Hm." Whirl turned and rapped a claw on the counter. Swerve jumped, then beamed at them. "Get me the biggest fucking mug of beer you have, short-stack."

"The biggest?" Swerve asked, setting down the polished glass with a frown and scratching his helm. "Are you sure you don't want the second biggest? Have you _seen_ my biggest mug?"

"I know what I want, and I want the biggest."

Swerve nodded and disappeared behind the bar, emerging with the mug. He opened a tap, nearly spilling fuel over his hands as he watched Chromedome's mouth rather than where the liquid drained from.

"Should I start charging money?" Chromedome asked sourly.

"Nah, but I should," Swerve said. "I actually thought about that as one of the themed nights here. 'Reverse face day.' I'd take off my visor and put a face plate on, y'know, like Optimus Prime. Tailgate, you, and Rewind would walk around bare-faced if possible and most of the crew would be hidden behind like, medical masks, or something."

"What the hell would I do?" Whirl asked.

"I don't wanna answer that," Swerve said. "You're creative. You could make--yeah, I don't wanna answer that." He hefted a mug about as tall and wide as Rewind's forearm on to the counter. "There. That's the biggest mug we have. I've used it only once and I still have the stains in the corner to remember it by. Happy drinking."

Whirl leaned into the bar and slid it over to Chromedome, his optic half-closed. "If you would be so kind."

"You..." Chromedome stared at the mug, then Whirl. "You want me to chug this, don't you?"

"Hell yes. I wanna see you get drunk off your ass. Can't exactly chug high-grade if you're wearing that mask all the time, right?"

Chromedome pursed his lips. He didn't want to bow out of Whirl's dare. If he had wanted to let him down, he could have done so several minutes ago. The drink would probably be on his tab, and both Whirl and Swerve's expectant stares shaved away at his resistance.

"The reason you never see me drunk isn't because I'm not drinking, Whirl." He looped his fingers through the handle and tested its weight. Primus. "It's because I'm not a light-weight." He lifted the drink, tilted it towards Whirl, then threw his head back and drank.

Chromedome drank and drank and drank, squeezed his optics closed, and shuddered. The booze never seemed to end and he feared that his tank wouldn't have enough space for the amount of fuel pouring down his intake. Just as he thought he'd choke, he finished, slamming the mug on the counter and lurching forward. By then a crowd had gathered around and they cheered as he finished. He felt pin-pricks of electricity spring across the back of his neck at the sudden attention. He felt exposed and with all the energon sloshing around inside him, he had less control of himself.

"Bravo!" Whirl said, clapping him on the back. Chromedome jerked forward and caught himself on the bar top. "I thought you'd pass out after that. I hadn't planned this far ahead." He stroked a pincer-tip against the prongs of his helm and glanced at the crowd. "Anyone have any ideas?"

Chromedome opened his mouth to protest but gurgled, collecting himself against the counter. He wasn't as blisteringly drunk as Whirl and apparently half the entire ship wanted to see, but had the mug been anger larger he _would_ have passed out. Hell, give him about ten minutes and he'd probably be too drunk to stand.

"I'm taking orders from you, not these guys," he managed to say.

"You never said I couldn't take suggestions," Whirl said, claws on his hips.

"We didn't exactly lay down a lot of ground rules," Chromedome argued.

Whirl beckoned the crowd with a claw. "C'mon, folks, ideas!"

"Do a hand-stand!" someone shouted.

"Good idea. Chromedome, do a hand-stand."

Chromedome groaned. "I'm top heavy and now I'm overcharged. You honestly expect me to be able to do a hand-stand?"

"That's the point, nimrod. I'll hold your ankles up since you're clearly too wasted to do it yourself. Up on the bar, up, up!" Whirl swept aside a circle of empty glasses without breaking any, miraculously, and pounced up on to the bar. He tugged Chromedome up with enough force to launch him into mach 1 and gripped his arms. "Ready?"

"Not really."

"On my mark. One, two, go!" Whirl shoved him. Chromedome didn't so much as swing on to his hands so much as he fell, but Whirl dutifully caught his legs mid-fall and yanked them upwards, stretching Chromedome into a hand-stand. He felt sick at once, everything inside him, his latest drink especially, adjusting to the flip, threatening to pour back out. He was beginning to forget why he'd ever accepted Whirl's dares and especially questioning why he thought he could finish them.

Everyone broke out in applause, hoots, and hollers. "Can I come down now?" Chromedome asked weakly.

"Wait, wait," Whirl said. "I have the sudden urge to hear you yodel."

"What's that?"

"It's like..frag, I dunno. You know those Earth jokes?" He laughed. Chromedome suspected he wasn't one-hundred percent sober, either.

"Which ones?"

"Knock knock."

"What?"

"You don't say 'what', you say 'who's there,'" Whirl chided.

"Who's there?"

"Little old lady."

"Huh?"

"For fucks--okay. Just say 'little old lady who' for me."

"Little old lady who?"

"That's it. That's yodeling. Now shout it out, mnemo-boy."

"Little-old-lady-who," Chromedome announced, enunciating each individual word. Whirl released his feet in a fit of giggles and Chromedome flopped on to his back on the bar, rolled over, then toppled on to the floor on his hands and knees. He groaned and Rewind materialized at his side, pressing into him. Whirl hopped down from the bar with the grace of a feline, like alcohol was just another gun in his hand.

"I haven't seen you this charged up in years, Domey," Rewind said. "Where's your mask? What're you doing?"

"I'll get back to you on that one," Chromedome said, the floor undulating like ocean water under his hands.

"Hold on, I have one more request," Whirl said, giddy as he crouched in front of him. "Think you can handle one more?"

Chromedome studied Whirl's expectant optic, distorted by his inebriation. Part of him suspected Whirl wasn't used to being owed favours, or at least anyone keeping their word on them. Perhaps Whirl would have requested something more personal if  he knew Chromedome would follow through. It was like knowing he had ten shanix and was asking for five because he'd gotten nothing in the past.

But that was all just conjecture, because it was also like Whirl to dare Chromedome to drink himself silly and humiliate himself in front of the crew. He turned his head to Rewind. The memory of his partner lifeless on a medical berth, fading away, crashed through his mind. Rewind squeezed his arm and he shook out the incessant image.

"Okay, one more," he agreed. "What is it?"

Whirl beamed and propped Chromedome up on his pedes away from Rewind, draping an arm over his shoulder. "Okay, listen up. I want you to take this straw," he shoved a curved straw into his hand, "hold it to your head, pretend you're Cyclonus, and sing a little song."

"Little song?" Chromedome quoted. "Cyclonus doesn't sing 'a little' song and he doesn't do it in 'a little' way."

"That's the joke."

"Fine." He ducked out of Whirl's arm and pressed the straw in front of his left helm-fin.

"Wrong side," Whirl said. Chromedome corrected its position and tucked it into a seam, swaying on his feet. Whirl caught his arm and Chromedome flinched and stumbled, unaware that he'd been about to fall over. "Can you get up on the bar again?"

"I doubt it."

"I'll lift you up on my shoulders, then."

"Wait, Whirl, the bar's one thing--"

Chromedome was fast, but Whirl was faster and less intoxicated. He danced around behind him, butt his head through his legs, and stood, sweeping Chromedome off his feet. Chromedome swayed with the motion, clutching Whirl's chest. Their added height made everyone below seem terribly short. Rewind looked half a mile away, peering up at them with a tilted head.

"How else is everyone supposed to hear you?" Whirl shot up at him, holding the ankles dangling over his sides.

"I'd rather not be heard," Chromedome said, meeting everyone's grins with a frown.

"Well, this isn't about you, is it, now, sunshine?" Whirl gave a short hop to adjust Chromedome. He gasped and threw his arms under Whirl's chin. "Ack, let go. Come on, let's hear your best Cyclonus impression."

Chromedome cleared his vocalizer and straightened, assuming a posture he would have associated with an old, dour Cybertronian. He didn't exactly have the highest opinion of Cyclonus and it undoubtedly showed, but he supposed Whirl would like it that way, if he could even see him.

And he sang, sort of, but not in the conventional way. He'd never sang a day in his life and trying to adopt Cyclonus' noises of patriotism was like switching vehicle types. Bile rose in his throat but he carried on, not sure what was coming out of his mouth until it became the only sound in the room. In his peripheral, Rewind frantically swiped his arms out in front of him in a cross, visor wide in a panic. He stopped singing at the onset of quiet. The crowd parted for a horned, violet mech as if he were riddled with a contagious rust.

Chromedome now understood his bad feeling with alarming clarity. Cyclonus' silent disgust stung more than any outright anger, but he didn't regret offending him so much as he regretted what would happen next.

Cyclonus schooled his expression and cut by them to reach the bar, swiping his foot across Whirl's legs on the way. He and Chromedome toppled to the floor in a heap. As Cyclonus assumed his seat and the crowd dispersed and the chatter returned, Chromedome struggled to disentangle himself from Whirl. The helicopter made no attempt to move, sighing happily as he pinned Chromedome under his elbow.

"Man, if that's what I get for saving spouses, I should do it more often."


End file.
